Proof by Contradiction
by Dumpfmoebel
Summary: Guts still has a lot to learn about Maths... as well as other things. Griffith/Guts, modern school AU.


Griffith's fingertip was barely touching the paper. "You see, if you bear in mind that the interior angles of a triangle always add up to one hundred and eighty degrees and we are dealing with an isosceles triangle here, the problem is actually very easy to solve. So, what measures do the angles have in this case?"

Just as Griffith's fingertip was barely touching the paper, Guts' mind wasn't that occupied with mathematics at the moment. His chest and stomach felt itchy, his limbs jittery, as if he was in desperate need of a jog to blow off energy.

Why am I so nervous? Just have to get over it, it's no big deal, that's what I'm trying to prove, right?

"Guts, are you listening? I know geometry is boring, but I can't watch you fail exam after exam anymore."

"Sorry", Guts shouted more loudly than intended.

Griffith raised his eyebrows, and his inquisitive gaze made the younger student's heart flutter uncomfortably. "There's something on your mind, isn't it? It's no use explaining all these things to you when you're daydreaming all the time." However, his expression softened quickly at the sight of Guts' guilty frown, and he added: "I can understand you though. Maths really is the least interesting thing in the world when you're thirteen…" And then he chuckled, leaving Guts paranoid that he might've read his thoughts.

Guts had heard so many blabberings about puberty being a hard and confusing time that he had wanted to rip off his ears, but now that he was sitting here, trapped with a dumb, yet necessary decision, inside a body with weird proportions, his tongue tied by both his nervosity and the fear of his voice jumping an octave when he opened his mouth, he was wishing himself back to primary school where it was out of question to spend more time with girls than boys, where no one dared to spread rumors about upperclassmen, where no one was able to say things so hurtful that they had to be disproved like this.

Griffith put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, asking him not to feel guilty, and once again Guts was left wondering about the weird shiver that gripped his body at the casual contact that used to be so natural and unimportant.

But now it caused all of these sensations which haunted him during the weirdest situations, and sometimes he would stare at his own naked body after a shower, curious about what Griffith's might look like when he peeked into the mirror like this, pale skin coated in droplets, and the shame rising to his cheeks would burn grossly, keeping him awake even after hurriedly touching himself beneath his heavy blanket.

Even now it plagued him as he evaded his friend's gentle eyes; he wasn't one of these people his classmates laughed about frequently, and yet they called him nasty names whose meanings he barely knew. No, he had to put an end to his doubts once and for all. Griffith was like an older brother to him, surely there was nothing more behind it - no, there definitely wasn't!

Guts tried to push Griffith's hands away but lost his determination halfway through the movement, holding it in his awkwardly. Those fingers were cool – somehow adult's fingers always felt slightly cold – and curled around his, and as the warmth of that blue gaze swept over him, Guts decided that a better moment wouldn't come, this was the time to settle it –

His heart hammered in his chest as he leaned forward and kissed Griffith, hands still entwined, directly on his red lips, and stifled the older boy's surprised sound.

They parted later than Guts had wanted to.

Griffith's smile was bright and warm, if not a bit sheepish, and he took Guts' other hand which had been resting on the desk as well; their knees bumped when they turned their chairs slightly to face each other. Having completely forgotten his original goal, Guts leaned into another kiss, Griffith's lips caressing his slightly this time. He felt breathless and light-headed. The experience was completely different from the first quick peck a girl from his class had given him on Valentine's Day, completely different too from garden waterfights in summer and boring trigonometry studying, completely different even from Griffith's usual touches, hair strokes and hands brushing accidentally.

They continued like this for a while, savoring the moment, and Guts surrendered. He might be different all along, but Griffith was grinning at him and he didn't care anymore; as long as his thoughts hadn't been stupid and embarrassing but rather mutual, he would be able to arrange himself.

Guts stared at the older boy, scared of what he would say, but he just looked down, shook his head slowly (at what? Guts didn't dare to ask) and let go of the thick fingers, turning torwards the textbook again.

"Well, I think we solved you problem in a satisfactory way", he spoke, and his voice almost burst with emotion. Was he happy? Guts shifted on his chair, the touch of these lips still burning on his.

"I guess."

"But you still haven't told me the measure of these angles."

Griffith's fingertips were barely touching Guts' palm as the afternoon slowly turned into an orange evening.


End file.
